


Smithereens

by lanyon



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Get Together, M/M, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-18 18:19:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8171263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanyon/pseuds/lanyon
Summary: Alexei Mashkov gets traded and his girlfriend breaks up with him on the same day. That's not even the worst part.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> +Enormous thanks to Nat, Michelle and Clare for the support.

The call is a surprise. Alexei wakes up to his phone vibrating somewhere in the sheets and Tanya grumbles in her sleep. He wraps one hand gently around her ankle as he roots for the phone. 

He blinks at the display. It’s Georgia. 

It’s Georgia and they’re sorry but there’s something about cap hits, and future growth, and he’s thanked for his service to the franchise. 

“What did you—” He clears his throat. “What you get for me?”

“Gladstone,” says Georgia. 

“He— good player,” says Alexei. “Solid.” 

He refrains from saying that Glads is older than him, with many more miles on the clock. If they want a well-behaved Canadian D-man, then they aren’t gonna do any better than Gilles Gladstone. He’s not the face of a franchise, not the way Alexei is — was — at Providence but maybe there’s only room for so many people on the banner that hangs over the Duckhouse entrance. 

“Okay,” says Alexei. “Okay. I should — I should pack now.” 

He waits till he’s sure the line is dead before he hurls his phone at the far wall. 

“Lyosha,” mumbles Tanya. “Too early for tantrums.”

“It’s earlier in Nevada,” says Alexei, bleakly, as cold reality settles in.

+

 **On the Hunt Hockey**  
Rumours are flying about why Providence traded one of their most bankable stars. Mashkov t-shirts are now selling at cut price in the Falconers’ official shop and his bobblehead figure is no longer available, maybe ready for repainting in Nevada. 

The first theory, and the likeliest, is that it’s a question of cap space; they’ve ditched Mashkov’s big contract for a slightly less unwieldy one, to make space for the inevitable increase in Jack Zimmermann’s contract. The second coming of Zimmermann has been exciting to watch and dealing away the admittedly popular Mashkov is probably just sound business sense. 

Of course, when one delves deeper, other rumours emerge. Stories of personality clashes and locker room issues, particularly between Mashkov and Zimmermann. Both have always denied a rift and, indeed, have been seen having dinner together as recently as this month. There are rumours, too, that Mashkov was unhappy at being passed over for the A, following Poulin’s early retirement before Christmas. Finally, Mashkov’s long-term girlfriend, former Russian reality TV star and current movie star, Tatiana Sorokina, has been implicated. Even though she is largely based in Moscow during the NHL season, it’s said that the charms of Providence have worn off. 

+

Tanya laughs. “It’s true. I don’t like Providence but it is much better than Magnitogorsk.” She shrugs. “It is no Moscow, though.” 

Alexei looks between two pairs of socks, balled up in each hand.

She touches his wrist. “Is it time we break up, my love?” 

“What? No,” he says. “What would I do without you?” 

“Be true to yourself?” she asks, and her smile is sweet and her fall of blonde hair shimmers and there’s not a camera to be seen. 

“In Las Vegas?” he asks, appalled. 

“I met someone,” she says.

Tanya always meets people but Alexei thinks this might be different. “Ivan Kozlov.”

Alexei blinks. “Your _producer_? He is, what? Fifty years old?” 

Tanya’s nails bite into the skin of Alexei’s forearm. “I am not the only one in this room who likes older men, Lyosha.”

“Do we have to break up?” Alexei asks pitifully. For all intents and purposes, Tanya is his childhood sweetheart. They grew up together and schemed together and chased their dreams together. They love each other but they would kill each other if they lived together all the time, like that movie with Will Smith and Charlize Theron. Alexei can’t remember the name of it but he knows Tanya can probably punch holes in the sky.

“Yes, sweetheart,” she says, and she pulls him close. They hug, for a while.

“I love you,” Alexei says. It’s a sweet moment, soft, even if the future is nothing but skate blades and cactus plants.

“I know,” she says, because she’s an asshole, and Alexei has probably never loved her more.

+

They drive to Logan together, while the internet’s hot takes are already cooling off for the next trade deadline story, and Tanya’s hand is curved over Alexei’s thigh.

“You drive fast when you’re angry,” she says. She doesn’t seem to mind; her hair is whipping out behind her and she looks like a Valkyrie, in oversize Chanel sunglasses. 

“I always drive fast,” says Alexei.

“Yes,” Tanya says.

They say goodbye at the airport and Tanya pulls Alexei in for a long, lingering kiss. He finds her left hand with his right hand and whispers, “you could marry me.”

“And be a rich widow within weeks?” she asks, her smile sharp and amused. “I would not do well in prison, Lyosha.” 

“Are we broken up?” 

“Yes,” she says. “Goodbye, Alexei. I will come visit you in Las Vegas.”

As he watches her walk away, he thinks that this is maybe not how break-ups usually work. 

+

 **From Russia With Love**  
New photographs have surfaced of hockey star, Alexei Mashkov, and his on-again, off-again girlfriend, Tatiana Sorokina, engaging in a passionate clinch at Logan International Airport. As they once again go their separate ways, Mashkov to Las Vegas and Sorokina to Moscow, it’s clear that there are still strong feelings on both sides.

Sorokina is in the running to play a Bond girl in the next, as yet untitled, 007 outing. She’s used to towering over her leading men, aside, of course, from her hockey beau, who, at 6’6” is still a great reason for Sorokina to wear those fabulous Laboutins. 

+

There are a lot of messages on his phone and he’s ignored most of them. The ones from Sasha and Zhenya are as useful as might be expected, as though there aren’t enough parentheses in the world to convey their amusement. 

Sasha is quoted on NHL.com as saying that he feels better now that Alexei has left the eastern conference so Sasha can feel less bad about shooting at him, and past him.

He sends a text to Alexei that says he’ll miss him but maybe Alexei will have more fun in Las Vegas.

Alexei doesn’t understand why anyone seems to think that he needs more fun in his life. All he wants to do is play hockey and he could do that just fine in Providence.

Zimmboni’s text is short and heartfelt and apologetic. It’s not Zimmboni’s fault that he’s the Next Other One or the Other Next One, or whatever convoluted term the Canadian press has come up to describe him. He’s one of the few people Alexei texts in return, wishing him luck and hoping that they’ll see each other when the Aces play the Falconers next month.

There’s a text from an unfamiliar number, too. _Welcome to the Aces. Really stoked to have you here. KVP._

And that’s the thing. Playing with Kent Parson is going to be a challenge all of its own. Alexei has never been Parson’s biggest fan. Oh, he’s an incredible player and Alexei will probably, eventually, learn to appreciate the fact that he no longer has to play against him because Kent Parson can make even the most nimble of defenders look clay-footed on the ice (and Alexei has never been, precisely, nimble). Alexei is honest enough with himself to know that his dislike of Parson isn’t entirely rational and, despite what people say, it has nothing to do with Parson beating him out for the Calder in a year when they both knew that the rookie rivalry should never have featured an American against a Russian.

Alexei pulls his cap down low over his face. He’s not stupid enough to think he hasn’t been recognised; he walked into the terminal building with a six foot tall movie star, after all.

His phone rings and Snowy’s picture flashes up on the screen. 

“You motherfucker, gonna fucking leave without saying goodbye?” Snowy is shrill when he’s angry.

Alexei tries to speak around the lump in his throat. “Didn’t know what to say,” he says. Oh god, his voice is wavering slightly. “I call you, makes it real. You call me, it’s just Snowy complaining again. Still not real.”

“It’s fucking real that they’re sending you to the other side of the fucking country,” says Snowy. He sounds so perfectly outraged that it almost cheers Alexei up. 

“Maybe you come with me? Put you in my luggage.”

“I’m not that much smaller than you, you _asshole_ ,” says Snowy. “Punch Parson in the dick for me when you see him, okay?”

Alexei snorts. “Think it’s frowned on to punch captains in the dick.” 

“You can start a new custom, like our handshake.”

“Ah, fuck,” says Alexei. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Snowy, I hang up now. Can’t cry in public. Leave you to snuggle with my bobbleheads. I know you bought them all.”

He ends the call, to another colourful tirade from Snowy and the weight on his chest is heavy and icy and he has to get on a plane to a place with no fucking seasons aside from ‘hot’ and ‘armpit’ and he’s never missed Providence more.

+

Alexei has the better part of six hours to contemplate what lies ahead. It’s a long time, even in business class, with very attentive stewardesses and passable vodka. He can just imagine Tatiana accusing him of sulking and she wouldn’t even be wrong. 

When he gets to McCarran, a woman from the front office meets him. Her name is Zoe and she comes up to his elbow and she talks almost too fast for Alexei to keep up.

“You’re booked into a hotel near the Aces complex,” she says. “But we’ll get you set up with an apartment as soon as possible. Maybe even a house, if you like. Some of the guys live near Sunset Park but they’re mostly all over. We’ll organise a car for you after practice tomorrow but Sammy Sanders said he’d pick you up in the morning.” 

The car she leads them to is an Escalade, so plenty of room for Alexei’s gear, and the driver is a sombre-faced man who barely glances at them. 

Zoe hands him a stack of paper. “Here are some of the important numbers. I’ve written Sanders’ number on the back of that page. They’re gonna want you to pick your jersey number ASAP.”

“Seven,” says Alexei because that should be obvious.

Zoe winces, a little theatrically. “See, the thing is, Gustavs Helmanis already has that number and isn’t keen to let it go.”

Alexei is stumped and stares at the back of the seat in front of him. “Uhm. Thirteen?” 

Zoes lets out a whistle. “In Vegas? You’re a brave man. You sure?”

Alexei nods. “Yes, yes. Thirteen. Is lucky for me.”

He has no idea if it’s lucky for him or not but it’s a shitty situation and he doesn’t think he can make it any worse.

He takes out his phone and texts Tatiana, though she’s probably still in the air. _what am i doing?_

+

Samuel (“call me Sammy”) Sanders is blonde and impossibly cheerful. He’s twenty-two and pretty big and his black Aces t-shirt is stretched over his shoulders. He looks like he’d be more at home with a surfboard than on the ice.

“Fuck, you’re huge,” he says, looking up at Alexei. “Good to meet you, man. You sleep okay?”

“Yes,” says Alexei because, the fact is, he sleeps like a baby in hotel rooms. Maybe it’s because they’re all the same, and he could be anywhere. He woke up to a string of texts from Tatiana, which ranged from the gently mocking to the mildly unhinged but at least they made him smile. “Comfortable bed. Maybe I stay.”

“Hey, man, Parse said when he moved here, he stayed in a hotel for like three months so, you know, it’s not unheard of.”

Alexei thinks he should find an apartment as soon as possible. Maybe Zoe can help. 

“Training today should be pretty chill. We’ve got two days before the homestand starts so we’ll get you settled right in. Oh, man. Hellboy said you’re taking thirteen. That’s fucking ay-plus. You’ll give Mak a fucking heart attack but that’s okay. He always plays better when he’s on the edge. Goalies, am I right?” 

Sanders drives an Audi TT and doesn’t stop talking for most of the way to the practice rink. Alexei finds it pretty relaxing, all things considered, because it doesn’t seem like Sanders wants or needs much response. 

The Aces’ complex is sprawling, like everything around here, and Sanders drives down into the underground carpark. Alexei gets out and stretches, reaching up towards the car park ceiling. He’s almost excited, in spite of himself, because he can hear some shouts and a whistle and it’s hockey, so it can’t be all bad. 

Before he joins practice, he’s whisked off for a quick photoshoot. His jerseys are ready and he pulls on the third jersey first, which is a royal blue. 

While he’s being photographed, he’s asked a few questions and he delivers his best rote answers, about being happy to be in Las Vegas. It’s a great opportunity to play with a skilfull team. He’s sure the Aces will be contenders for years to come. He’s looking forward to this new style of play. He doesn’t know who he’ll be paired up with but he’s looking forward to a lot of minutes on the ice. He’s ready to be a part of any penalty kill unit they provide. No, he’s not above dropping the gloves but he’d rather speak with his hockey, not his fists. 

He’d rather speak with his hockey and not his English. He’s getting tired of being polite. 

Fortunately, after a few more handshakes, he’s ushered off to the locker room and, once he’s pulled on his practice gear, he goes to find his sticks. 

“—fucking _huge_.” 

Alexei rounds a corner to see two people holding one of his sticks. 

“Don’t touch my sticks!” he says and it comes out harsher than he intends. A tall brunette shoves the stick into the hands of Kent Parson, who looks legitimately terrified for a split-second, actually flinching before he guides the stick back onto the rack. It actually does look big next to Parson, or maybe Parson looks small next to it. 

Wiping his hand on his shorts, Parson walks towards Alexei. 

“Mashkov,” he says. He holds out his hand to shake Alexei’s and it’s kind of weird, like Parson is playing at being an adult. Alexei is used to fist bumps and head butts in greeting but he shakes Parson’s hand, nonetheless. 

“Welcome to the Aces.”


	2. Chapter 2

When Alexei thinks back to that first practice, he doesn’t think that it was the beginning of something. It was not the beginning of an era. It wasn’t even the beginning of the week. 

Mäkinen was duly horrified by Alexei’s number choice but he thinks that he’s been forgiven because Mak likes to sit next to Alexei on the team plane and tell him about the latest crime documentary he’s watched.

Mak is nothing like Snowy. 

It’s been a month. A month since the Falconers traded him. 

+

 **Who’s Winning The Mashkov Trade?**  
One month since the Falcs traded Russian behemoth Alexei Mashkov, and there’s only one winner. 

Paired up with the Aces’ flashy American D-man, Bryce Banner, Mashkov hit the ground running. While Finnish goalie, Max Mäkinen, has presided over two shut-outs during the fourteen game stretch, Mashkov has impressed with his hard work on the penalty kill. With six points, he’s also been linking up well with his new forwards and he and Kent Parson combined to score one of the goals of the season. 

It also seems like his new teammates have taken to him. In Mashkov’s very first game, against the Seattle Schooners, Sam ‘the Colonel’ Sanders threw down the gloves after Schooners captain, Karl Nilsson, cross-checked Mashkov into his own goalie.

Meanwhile, Gilles Gladstone is making slow progress recovering from a lower body injury, picked up in only his third game for the Falconers, although he did show flashes of his previous Norris-winning form prior to that.

The conclusion is obvious. In Las Vegas, the house always wins.

+

“Hey, hey, Banner, is it true that your dad wanted to call you Bruce but your mom couldn’t spell it?”

“You mother _fucker_ —”

Alexei wraps his arms around Banner to pull him back. “Hey, hey, easy. Not worth it. Only Aeros bitter that they’re losing.”

“I’m so fucking _sick_ of those fucking jokes!”

“Shush, yes, I know, but you still hulk out when you hear them,” says Alexei.

“You are fucking lucky I like you, Mashkov. I’ve punched people for less.”

Alexei laughs and gives Banner a face-wash with his glove. “I like you, too. Now, we only have penalty to kill and not five-on-three.” 

They win the game and, afterwards, Banner gives Alexei the centurion helmet that signifies the locker room MVP. “Two points and some fucking great team work tonight, Mashkov.”

Alexei takes it and puts it on his head and he grins. 

“Fuck yeah, good work, Banner and Mashkov,” says Parson and his smile is wide and wicked. “Best defence pairing in the league.”

 

“Oh my god,” says Jeff. “OH MY FUCKING GOD. I see it now.” He points between Banner and Alexei. “Bangers and Mash.”

Parson’s eyes grow impossibly round. “I love it.”

“I have an ex who called her tits _bangers and mash_ ,” says Sanders. “Bangers was a little smaller.” He looks up as he realises the entire locker room has fallen silent. “So it works, yeah?”

“Holy fuck, this child,” says Jeff. 

“He’s your rookie,” says Parson, shaking his head sadly.

“Oh, fuck you. He’s _your_ rookie, Parse.”

Alexei knows enough to know that this argument could go on a long time. He stands up and picks up his bag, carefully setting the centurion helmet on his seat. 

“Where are you going, Mash?” asks Helmanis. “You’re coming out for drinks, yes?” 

Alexei looks around the room and shrugs. “I guess?” he says. He doesn’t often go out with the team, although he probably should make more of an effort. He doesn’t think that Parson exactly objects to his absence but, almost in spite of himself, he finds himself charmed by his new teammates, some of whom are ridiculous eager to be liked. 

“Yes!” says Banner, punching the air. “We’ll go to this new place that Knickers is always talking about.”

“Is good,” says Kolya, whose English is probably better than most Americans’ English, but he’ll never let them know that. Alexei is onto him, though. He’s seen what’s on Kolya’s Kindle. He knows. “You coming, Lyosha. Sasha keeps texting to ask if you dead.”

Alexei is baffled. “I’m not dead. I’m NHL’s third star last week.” 

“Maybe he thinks we— what word? Raise you from dead?”

“Resurrect,” says Sanders, looking between them with glee. 

“Yes!” says Kolya. “Res-ur-rect you every night for play.”

Alexei narrows his eyes at Kolya who blinks back at him innocently. 

“I’m onto you,” Alexei says, in Russian, pointing at him, and Kolya just smiles widely. 

“Does Russian always sound so angry?” asks Sanders.

“Only when Alyosha speak it,” says Kolya. 

Alexei is sure he imagined that faintly apprehensive expression on Parson’s face. 

Eventually, they all pile out and into cabs and, as luck would have it, or otherwise, Alexei is crammed into a back seat, next to Parson, who has Sanders on his other side. Fortunately, Sanders doesn’t shut up for the whole journey. Parson is picking lightly at his jeans and Alexei feels a strange urge to cover Parson’s hand with his own, just to stop him fidgeting. 

Instead, he takes out his phone and texts Snowy.

_It is happening. Going out for drinks with new team._

Snowy texts back almost instantly because he’s obviously always just waiting for Alexei to text him. _It is OK bro. Think after 5 wks u r allowed to see other teammates._ It’s quickly followed by: _im still ur fave goalie right?_

Alexei laughs softly to himself and texts back. _always babe_.

When he tucks his phone back into his jacket pocket, Parson has gone still beside him. 

“We’re here!” says Sanders, tumbling out of the cab almost before it stops. 

“He’s only been legal to drink for eighteen months,” says Parson, dryly. “The shine will wear off eventually.” 

Parson waves off any attempt by Alexei to pay for their ride with a, “you can get it next time, bro” and Alexei wonders if he’s really Parson’s bro.

The club is loud and the VIP section is pretty nice and Alexei is immediately commandeered by Mak and Bedard. 

“Drink,” says Mak and he puts a shot down in front of Alexei. 

Alexei thinks he can see where this evening is going.

+

 **Celebrate Good Times**  
Most of the Las Vegas Aces were spotted out at new club, Pinnacle, last night, celebrating a hard-fought win over the Houston Aeros. The team have three days off before embarking on their last road trip of the year, which will take them to the eastern conference for a three-game stretch to close out the regular season.

The Aces clinched their playoff spot a week ago and are looking to consolidate their new lines when they travel to Tampa Bay on Wednesday. 

+

Alexei is pleasantly buzzed. He may even be drunk. 

“What’s the deal with the, uh—” He gestures at his own head. “The helmet thing.”

Sanders blinks at him. “To keep your head safe from pucks?” 

“Noooo,” says Alexei. “The one with the brush on it.” 

“Oh! The centurion helmet.” Sanders shrugs. “Lotsa rumours how that one started but I heard that Parson, like, seduced one of the guys at Caesar’s Palace and that was his souvenir.”

“Oh yeah,” says Bedard. “I heard that one, too.”

Alexei blinks. “He—”

Bedard nods. “Yeah, Parse has never confirmed or denied, either.”

“Get it, Parse” says Sanders. “He wins that the thing the most, too.”

“Quelle surprise,” says Bedard, and they laugh. 

Alexei sits back and takes a long swallow of his cocktail and glances towards where Parson is talking with one of the bartenders. He’s laughing and his cheeks are flushed and he’s looking up at the bartender from under his eyelashes and Alexei has to take another drink because his mouth is dry. He’s heard the rumours about Parson, of course, though he was never exactly in a position to ask Zimmboni about them. He never expected to hear such casual conversation about the subject, all the same. 

Later, Bedard elbows him. “You don’t have a problem with Parse, do you?” He looks very stern, more severe than usual. “You have a problem with Parse, we all have a problem.”

Alexei can’t shake his head hard enough or fast enough. “Fuck, no. Of course not. I think— I think it’s good.”

“Good?” asks Bedard, with obvious scepticism.

“Good that team supports him.”

“Of course we do. He’s our captain. They are rumours, you understand? They always follow him and we don’t care. He never says anything about them so we don’t either. He’s—” Bedard tilts his head to the side. “Never mind. You’ll get to know him.”

Parson comes over then, with Sanders draped all over him. It looks pretty comical but Parson is clearly stronger than he looks. 

“I’m gonna take Drunkie here home and pour him into bed,” he says. “Have a good night, you guys.”

Alexei watches the bartender watching Parson leave.

+

The next morning, Alexei has never been so glad of the word ‘optional’. He’s about to roll over and go back to sleep when he makes the critical error of reaching for his phone.

 _Oh my god you ARE seeing other goalies_. Snowy has attached a screenshot of an Instagram post of Alexei and Mak laughing together. 

_So proud of you playing so nice with the other kids_ from Tanya and _Vegas nightlife best )))))))))_ from Sasha.

 _Brunch at 12_ is from Bedard, with a link to a Google Map destination. 

He scrolls through his instagram and his thumb barely hovers for a moment before he likes Sanders’ photo of Alexei and Banner. _Bangers and Mash!!!_.

+

Let’s talk about the draft class of 2009. Specifically, let’s talk about Alexei Mashkov, who’s flown from being under the shadow of the projected 2009 number one pick, Jack Zimmermann, to being under the shadow of the actual 2009 number one pick, Kent Parson. 

It’s a good thing he’s so tall.

Comparisons to the two flashy forwards are, of course, unfair because Mashkov has emerged as a top class defenceman and he and his partner, Bryce Banner, have comfortably become the Aces’ top pairing.

“Yeah,” says Parson. “I feel like Alexei was probably the missing puzzle piece. He brings stability to the back but he’s not afraid to get forward to. He and Bryce have been great. I definitely see them being Norris contenders in the years to come.”

+

“Loved your hot take, Parse,” calls out Banner, when Parson gets on the plane. 

“Well,” says Parson. “You know. You guys are pretty okay.”

As he walks past Alexei, he offers him a small smile and Alexei smiles back reflexively. “Thanks, Captain,” he says and Parson drops a hand to squeeze Alexei’s shoulder and Alexei thinks that might be the first time Parson has touched him off the ice. 

“Good to have you with us,” says Parson and Jeff and Sanders lead a round of applause, with Helmanis whooping loudly. 

“Well done, Parse,” says Jeff. “Welcoming him to the franchise, what? Six weeks after he gets here?” 

“He sent me welcome text before I even got on the plane,” says Alexei, a little stung on Parson’s behalf. 

Parson stops for a moment. “Oh,” he says. “Oh, good. I wasn’t sure you got it.” He looks a little awkward. 

He continues on his way down the plane and eventually takes his seat next to Fischer, who’s been their best rookie this season. Alexei turns to see Mak staring at him. 

“You didn’t text Parson back?” Mak looks faintly horrified. 

Sanders shoves his face between the two seats. “You didn’t text him _back_?” 

“One time, I didn’t text him back and he, like, triggered this fucking phone tree— no, fucking _avalanche_ — to make sure I hadn’t, like, I don’t know. Gotten trapped in my bathroom or something—” says Sӧrensen. 

“Look, that was a very real risk,” says Jeff. “It still is.” 

“We all remember the time Hellboy got tangled up in Christmas lights in his own home,” says Mak, solemnly. 

“Fuck you, that never happened!” shouts Helmanis from two rows back. 

+

They drop the ball pretty spectacularly against the Lightning and Mak picks up an injury early in the second which puts everyone on edge. Glazkov does well but the Aces are two goals down with four minutes to go in the third. Alexei’s just stepped onto the ice for another shift when he sees Parson hit the ice and there’s no way that wasn’t deliberate. 

He’s in the fray before he knows it, bloodying noses and screaming abuse at the _asshole_ who laid Parson out and it’s only when he’s cooling his heels in the box that he even stops to think about how he _didn’t_ stop to think. He just reacted, with Sanders and Banner close behind him.

There are five seconds left on his penalty and there’s a break in play. Sanders skates over to him and gestures. The penalty box door is opened and Sanders leans in. “Parse says you’re to go to the left post and fucking keep your stick down. Don’t fuck this up, Mash, or he’ll probably kill you himself.”

Alexei glances towards Parson who’s idly skating in towards the face-off dot. Even from here, Alexei can see the shadow of a bruise on Parson’s right cheek. 

As soon as his penalty is up, Alexei does what he’s told because he’s always been good at following orders. 

Parson’s holding up the puck and he sends it to Helmanis who one-times it to Alexei who reacts, for the second time in this period, and he’s more baffled than anything when the puck squeezes in under the goalie’s blocker. It’s probably the most unlikely goal a defenceman has scored this year and Alexei is certainly out of position but it was a damned effective play and he barely registers Banner and Sanders slamming into him. 

They pull Glazkov with a minute thirty to spare but they don’t manage to get an equaliser. 

Alexei’s not exactly happy with how he played and he’s still feeling unsettled when Parson says to him, softly, “Don’t ever do that again.”

Alexei wants to snap back, _What? Score?_ but it would be kind of pointless given that Parson was the architect of the goal. Their teammates scuttle past them and Alexei can’t help but notice that none of them are looking at him and Parson.

“He hurt you,” says Alexei, a little mulishly.

“Yeah, well. It happens to me a lot,” says Parson and his eyes are flashing like a kaleidoscope of rage. “Or it used to, anyway. I don’t need you taking dumb penalties on my behalf.” 

Alexei wants to ask, he wants to demand Parson tells him who hurt him but he’s not sure he wants to know the answer.

“I’m sorry,” he says, stiffly. “Wasn’t thinking.”

“Okay,” says Parson. His shoulders slump. “Okay. But I’m gonna need you to think in future, Mashkov. We need you on the ice.”

When they walk into the locker room, there’s a roar. 

“Gordie fucking Howe,” says Jeff. “And a spanking from the captain. Been a hell of a night for you, Mash.”

“Nice, Lyosha,” says Kolya. 

Alexei thinks he’s getting more back-slaps and fist-bumps for the roughing penalty than for his goal and Parson is looking faintly amused in his stall. “Stop encouraging him,” Parson says. 

Alexei shoots him a surprised smile and Parson smiles back and Alexei doesn’t think he’s getting the full, unguarded smile, the way Jeff or Kolya do, but he thinks maybe he’s getting there. It surprises him that he cares. 

+

 **Aces Come To Town**  
There’s been a lot of change since the Falcs last met the Aces; an exchange in personnel and now both teams have qualified for their respective playoffs. Although everyone involved denies that this is a meaningless game, the fact remains that the Aces are leaving some of their star power in the press box, with captain and runaway Art Ross winner, Kent Parson, leading up the healthy scratches tonight for the second game in succession.

+

“So, your captain didn’t want to come out and face us tonight, huh?”

“Fitz, that’s not nice,” says Alexei, reprovingly. They’re at his absolute favourite seafood restaurant in Providence. “He got bashed up in Tampa. Probably good for him to take a break.”

“Not even Kent Parson plays hockey with his face,” says Fitz. “No matter how pretty it is.”

“ _Fitz_ ,” says Alexei. “I don’t give you shit for Zimmboni not playing tonight for same reason.” 

“Man, it’s so weird,” says Robs. “You’re really playing for the other guys now.”

Alexei raises an eyebrow. “You not notice I’ve not been in Falcs locker room for last six weeks, no?”

“I’ve noticed,” says Snowy, who hasn’t let Alexei move more than two feet away from him since they met up after the game. “I’ve noticed you hanging out with other goalies.”

“I think of you whole time,” says Alexei. 

“It’s okay,” says Snowy, throwing his arm over his face dramatically. “But tell me one thing. Is it … better?”

“He make me feel special,” says Alexei, solemnly, if a little too fondly. Sometimes, he can’t believe it’s not even been two months; the Aces seem to have swallowed him whole, bones and all. 

Snowy lets out a howl and everyone laughs. 

“What’s Parse like?” asks Thirdy, leaning across the table. 

Everyone simmers down at that, which kind of surprises Alexei. He would have figured that, by now, everyone in the league knows enough about Parson.

“Good,” he says, after a moment. “Good captain. Cares a lot. Took a rookie to the airport to collect rookie’s family.”

“I heard that he parties a lot,” says Robs, almost reverently. “Like, old school, hard-living, eats pucks for breakfast.”

“I heard he eats puck _bunnies_ for breakfast,” says Fitz.

“Rude,” says Alexei, severely. “He’s a good guy. He loves his team. And don’t be misogynist asshole.”

“Zimmboni is always so weird about him,” says Snowy, a little while later. “I thought he’d be more of a dick or something.”

“Not a dick,” says Alexei. “A little strange but not a dick.”

+

Snowy drives Alexei back to the team hotel and it’s not long before curfew.

“I miss having you around, Tater,” he says, after a while.

“I miss _you_ ,” says Alexei, fervently. “Not sure I miss other assholes but I miss you.” 

“Are you happy?” 

Alexei has to think about that for a moment, drawing his fingers over the dashboard. “Yes,” he says. “It’s strange but they are good guys.”

Snowy scrutinises him for a moment, like he’s a particularly problematic play, and then nods. “Okay,” he says. “Good. Now fuck off out of my car and we’ll see you in the Final.”

Alexei louds out a horrified gasp. “Now you jinx us all!” He punches Snowy lightly in the shoulder before he gets out of the car. 

He’s pretty happy as he strolls through the hotel lobby, his hands in his pockets, and he almost doesn’t see Parson, sitting in an armchair, his phone held loosely in one hand. 

“Captain,” says Alexei. “Waiting for late— oh. Are you— Are you sick?” 

Parson looks terrible. Maybe he wasn’t a healthy scratch tonight, after all. His eyes are red-rimmed and he looks pale and exhausted. He shakes his head.

“‘m okay, Mashkov,” he says, and Alexei isn’t convinced.

“You need hot whiskey,” he says, decisively. 

Parson is shaking his head. “I should— I should head up.”

“Come, have drink with me,” says Alexei, certain that Parson shouldn’t be on his own right now though Alexei can’t imagine why Parson decided a hotel lobby was a good place to be. “We celebrate playoffs.”

“We made playoffs three weeks ago,” says Parson, a mulish set to his jaw. 

“And they start in three days,” says Alexei. “So we running out of time to celebrate.”

“You’re pretty fucking stubborn, aren’t you?” Parson drags himself to his feet and he’s a full head shorter than Alexei but, as always, he seems taller.

“Look who’s talking, little man,” says Alexei, vastly amused. 

Parson snorts and swipes at his eyes with his fingers. “I guess I could use a drink.” He squints up at Alexei. “Thought you hated me,” he mumbles. 

Alexei goes cold. “You— I— You’re my team.”

Parson musters up a lop-sided smile and it looks horrific. “‘s not always enough, Mashkov.” 

“It is for me,” says Alexei, resolutely.

He guides Parson through to the bar and orders Scotch for both of them. “The good stuff,” he tells the bartender. 

“So, Kent Parson,” he says, carefully. “Why you sad?”

“I thought you said I was sick,” says Parson, with a watery smile.

“Jury still out on that one,” says Alexei. “But you not happy.” 

Parson lets out a sigh. “You know when you make a mistake, and you try to fix it, but you accidentally make the mistake bigger? And then when you try to fix _that_ mistake, it’s like you’ve hit some fucking critical mass of being a fuck-up but you don’t know how to fucking stop?”

Alexei blinks at Parson. “You say sorry?”

Parson blinks at Alexei. “Tried that. Didn’t work.”

“Well,” says Alexei, slowly. “No one _have_ to forgive anyone but if you sorry and will never do … it … again, you should maybe take a break from … fucking up?”

“Oh,” says Parson, looking at the bar-top. “I’m definitely never doing it again. No way.”

Alexei leans in a little, and down, and bumps his shoulder against Parson’s. “Parse? I tell you secret?”

Parson looks at him and Alexei can’t figure out the expression on his face. “Secret is … no one is perfect.” He takes a long swallow of his Scotch and should probably savour it more than he does. “Not even Russians.”

+

_I’m coming to visit._

Tanya arrives in Vegas in skin-tight leather pants, despite the weather, and a lot of luggage.

“You moving in?” asks Alexei, after he manages to squeeze everything into his car, between his hockey equipment and the few boxes he still hasn’t moved into his apartment.

“No,” says Tanya. “I wouldn’t do that to either of us.” She pushes her sunglasses down her nose to look at him. “You look well, Alexei.” She pokes him in the meat of his shoulder. “Even if you went to seven against the Wild.” 

“That was not my fault,” says Alexei. 

“Eight penalty minutes in one game says otherwise.” 

“Did you come here for a vacation or to criticise my hockey?”

“Oh, Lyosha,” says Tanya, pityingly. “For me, it’s the same thing.”

They drive in silence for all of eight seconds before Tanya pipes up again. “Tell me about your captain.”

“Why is everyone always so interested in Parson?” asks Alexei, his foot a little heavier on the gas.

“He’s a very accomplished player who can’t win the Cup all by himself,” says Tanya. “And also he’s beautiful, don’t you think?” 

Alexei harrumphs. “I’m beautiful too,” he says.

“Yes, darling. Now, please tell me you have white wine in the fridge.”

+

“How did you get such a hot girlfriend?” asks Sanders before Game One against the Sharks. 

Alexei blinks. “When girl tells you size doesn’t matter, Sammy? She lying.” 

He skates away to roars of laughter from Mak and Banner, and drops to one knee to stretch. It never occurs to him to deny that Tanya is his girlfriend. He knows that it didn’t work out with her producer but she’s been staying with him for four nights and they haven’t fucked, even if they’ve slept in the same bed. 

+

 **Aces Crash Out In Five**  
Another season, another disappointment for Kent Parson’s Aces as they spiral out of the playoffs in five games, losing to the San Jose Sharks. 

Their window is a wide one, though, with youngsters Samuel Sanders and Mathias Sӧrensen impressing this year, while Daniel Fischer is very much on the cusp. Their defence is solid, thanks to the addition of Alexei Mashkov, who’s surely just entering his prime, and there’s nothing more that can be said about Kent Parson, this year’s runaway Art Ross winner. 

While not progressing is a disappointment for this young team, they can be expected to come back stronger after the off-season and the World Cup, and these guys will challenge for a few seasons to come.

+

“Sorry,” says Alexei.

Parson is sitting on his own at the bar, his shoulders slumped. He turns his head. “Why?” 

“For getting knocked out,” Alexei says. 

“Hey,” says Parson. “I’ve heard tell that it takes more than one player to win the Stanley Cup. It may even take more than two.” 

Alexei nods heavily. “Still, though. I came in and—”

“You kicked ass,” says Parson, fervently. “And next year—”

“Next year, we sweep Sharks and everyone else.”

Parson laughs, a little helplessly. “Sure,” he says. “Why not?” He sips his drink and Alexei thinks he’s only drinking soda. “Oh, and Mashkov? When they offer you the ‘A’ this summer, take it, yeah?” 

Alexei watches as Parson swings himself off his barstool and walks over to where Helmanis and Jeff are draped over each other. 

It’s not Providence, but he thinks he might be home.


	3. Chapter 3

“Who are you texting?” Tanya pokes at Alexei’s leg with her toe.

“Mmm,” says Alexei. “Snowy. Sanders. Neither of them know how to shut up.”

A text pops up from Mak. _How is Maldives?_

“Also, Max.”

“You’ve got two goalies on the go at once? You scoundrel.”

“They all think we’re on honeymoon.”

“Cute,” says Tanya before she rolls onto her front. “Put suncream on my back, there’s a darling.”

 

+

 

 **The Spy Who Loved … Him?:** Despite multiple denials that they are engaged or married, actress, Tanya Sorokina, and her hockey beau, Alexei Mashkov, were seen returning to Moscow this week after a trip to the Maldives and anyone who follows Mashkov on Instagram is jealous of him; this week has been a parade of photographs of his beautiful companion in one of the most beautiful places on the planet.

It’s been confirmed that Mashkov had a brief, non-speaking role in the latest Bond film, part of which was filmed in St Petersburg, earlier in the summer. The rumours are that Sorokina plays not a Bond girl, but a Bond villain. Does this mean that Mashkov was one of her henchmen? We could talk about art imitating life but maybe we should just wait for the movie.

+

Sasha sends Alexei into the boards as soon as Alexei steps onto the ice for their first World Cup practice.

“You get secretly married and steal my thunder, Lyosha?” he asks, as terrifyingly jovial as ever.

“No,” says Alexei, rubbing his elbow. “Was that necessary?”

“Always. Have you seen Zhenya? He’s not gloating too much.”

Alexei shrugs. He doesn’t always pay that much attention to what the other Russians are doing in the offseason. His sisters, and their many children, take up most of his time while Tanya demands the rest of his attention. Alexei likes it, in a way. It means that there is more to him than hockey.

“No, but you’ve been making movies with your lovely wife, haven’t you?” asks Sasha, crowing a little as he skates away.

“She’s not my wife!” Alexei calls after him.

He doesn’t think Sasha cares.

+

Alexei isn’t sure how he feels about the World Cup, as such. It doesn’t feel as prestigious as the Olympics or Worlds but he enjoys playing with his countrymen. He sometimes wishes that there wasn’t so much pressure. It’s worse than the NHL; when the Aces lost in the playoffs, he didn’t feel like he was letting his entire country down but every time he pulls on a Russian jersey, it feels at least twenty pounds heavier than it has any right to feel.

Alexei loves his country but when they land in Pittsburgh for the pre-tournament game against Canada, he relaxes minutely.

Alexei loves his country but he is not sure he is ever entirely himself when he is there. He thinks he is himself, in Zhenya’s garden, playing poker with other Zhenya and Sasha.

“Do you think the Stanley Cup is here?” asks Sasha, narrowing his eyes. “I wouldn’t put it past the fucker to put it somewhere one of us will trip over it.”

“Oh, sure,” says Alexei. “I think it’s probably in the downstairs bathroom. They’re usually pretty careless about that kind of thing. Be careful not to touch it when you go for a piss.”

“It could be in this city right now,” hisses Sasha. “Why did we agree to come here?”

“For glory and honour?” asks Alexei. He turns to other Zhenya. “Deal, Zhenya, for the love of god, please deal.”

+

Alexei feels a little bad when they beat Finland in Toronto but he pulls Mak into a hug during the line-up at the end.

“We win together this season, yes?”

“You promise, you bastard?” asks Mak, who looks exhausted.

“Always say what I mean,” says Alexei, giving Mak another hug. “Go rest up. Got to put up with Sanders when we get back.”

Mak snorts. “That little shit. Fucking Team North America.”

+

Team USA gets knocked out and it doesn’t occur to Alexei what that might mean until he gets a text. It’s been a long, meandering, sweaty day in Nevada. Alexei is due to join the team for skate tomorrow but he’s been working out, while fending off calls from a real estate agent and Tanya, both of whom have very firm opinions as to the sort of house he should be buying.

_Joining skate at the end of the week. Want to get lunch tomorrow?_

Alexei blinks at the text but quickly thumbs back a reply. _yes )))))_ He sends it and then sends another. _bad luck at world cup. we win better cup this year together_

When he gets out of the shower, there’s a reply waiting for him. _You bet. Allegro tomorrow at 1._

He wonders if Parson will help him decide about a house. The apartment he’s renting at the moment is pretty nice but he thinks he’d like a house, like the rest of the older guys on the team. Banner and his wife live in a sprawling two-storey house down the road from Parson’s frankly ridiculous mansion and Helmanis lives a few blocks away with his family in an even bigger house.

Sanders and Sӧrensen live in the same apartment complex and Alexei thinks it’s only by the grace of some deity or other that they haven’t burned the place down making mac and cheese. Everyone on Twitter has seen their joint culinary efforts and it’s probably in Alexei’s best interests to move out of the inevitable blast radius.

Before he gets into bed, Alexei Googles Allegro. It turns out to be a tiny restaurant in a fairly residential part of the city and it’s entirely unlike anything Alexei would have associated with Parson. Then again, he supposes, as he sets his alarm for the morning, he doesn’t really know Parson that well. This season will change that, he’s sure. There have been a few trades but the core has stayed largely intact.

+

 

 **Will Aces Finish High?** As part of our preseason series, we’re looking at the Las Vegas Aces, who are serious contenders for the coming season. With the best forward in the league, in the form of the captain, Kent Parson, and Vezina finalist, Max Mäkinen in goal, the Aces have star power at both ends but what about the bits in between?

Alexei Mashkov and Bryce Banner formed a solid partnership in the latter part of last season, which promises to go from strength to strength, while the veteran-rookie D pairing of Nikolai Nikushkin and Mathias Sӧrensen have had some steady numbers. The third duo, of Matts Maurice and Dante Prince showed improvement last season and have reportedly been working hard over the summer. Mashkov has been given the ‘A’ in only his first full season at the Aces’, following Georges Bedard’s retirement. Bedard isn’t going far, though, as he’ll still be part of the Aces’ backroom staff.

Up front, flanking Parson, are Jeff Núñez and Sam Saunders, and the second line is no less imposing, with Gordon Lapointe centring the speedy youngsters, Pavel Bebchuk and Josef Nyberg.

The bottom six shows the most change, with Daniel Fischer likely to be joined by call-ups from the minors for Loic O’Connor, Billy Mwaura and Brad Davide. With the off-season additions of Canadian veteran centre, Rick Flores, and Gregor Pokorny, who became a free agent in the summer after six years with the Islanders, the Aces have plenty of depth, with skilled, quick forwards. This could well be their year.

+

Allegro is even smaller than Alexei thought it would be but the proprietors greet Parson like he’s an old friend, or long-lost son, and Parson asks about their daughters which triggers off an excited conversation, held in Italian and operatic gestures.

“Didn’t know you speak Italian,” says Alexei, as they’re shown to their table. He doesn’t doubt that this is the best seat in the house.

“I don’t,” says Kent, looking surprised.

“What is good here?” Alexei looks at the menu, which is a single sheet, covered with peeling laminate. He thinks the stain at the bottom is tomato but he’s also not entirely convinced that this isn’t some kind of mafia front.

“Honestly?” says Kent. “Everything is amazing. I usually just let Frank tell me what I want. He’s pretty much always right.”

Frank seems to be the owner and maybe the chef too. He comes over to the table, gesticulating at Kent and smiling broadly. Alexei thinks the stains on his apron are tomato, too.

Kent looks a little embarrassed at Frank’s effusive greeting. “I, uh, got him an autographed shirt,” he says, after Frank goes back to the kitchen. “Not mine,” he says, hurriedly, evidently seeing the way Alexei’s eyebrows shoot up. “This soccer player. We both have deals with New Balance and I guess Frank’s a really big Juventus fan.” He shrugs. “It was no big deal.”

“Maybe no big deal to you, Kent,” says Alexei. “Means a lot to Frank.”

Apparently, it means so much that Frank gives them enormous servings of pasta. Neither Alexei nor Kent drink anything but water with their meal, but Alexei feels sleepy afterwards, and strangely content. Kent is good company and Alexei no longer feels unsettled by that.

“Ugh,” says Alexei, holding his belly as he staggers outside into the harsh brightness. It’s almost a surprise that it’s still only the afternoon. “I think maybe I go back to gym. Work off this foodbaby.”

Kent slides his sunglasses on and Alexei wonders at how he can look like a rockstar with such ease, when Alexei has seen him chewing on his thumbnail and fretting over things he can’t change.

“Nah, man,” says Kent. “I’m gonna go home, catch some rays.” He pauses by his car, which is ridiculous, and small, and bright yellow. “Hey,” he says. “You, ah, wanna come back to mine? See the neighbourhood. I mean, if you wanna get a place, you may as well see if you can deal with the neighbours.”

“I don’t know,” says Alexei, slowly, and he sees the way Kent wilts slightly. “I mean. I not fit in that car.”

“Hey,” says Kent, indignant and vibrant, just like that, as though Alexei had flipped a switch. “You can follow me in your monstrosity.”

“Is not monstrosity,” says Alexei. “Very practical pickup. Like real American, see?”

Kent cackles. “Sure, buddy.” He jerks his head towards Alexei’s car. “See if you can keep up, yeah?”

+

“So,” says Mak, sliding up to Alexei, before the first full-team practice of the preseason. “You and Parse are totally bros now.”

“I take being alternate very serious,” says Alexei, as solemnly as he can, watching Kent skate a wide arc while he talks to Jeff.

“Good,” says Mak. “I approve. Parse needs friends. Hey, did you see that new serial killer documentary on Netflix?”

“Not everyone is fucking morbid as fuck,” says Banner, skating in and looping his arm around Alexei’s neck. “I missed you, buddy. You got a new place, eh?”

“When’s the house-warming?” asks Mak.

“Already had one,” says Alexei. “Very small. Just me and Parse.”

“Forcing your captain to help you move isn’t a housewarming,” says Kent, joining the ever-increasing circle of Aces. It feels like the first day of school, or how Alexei imagines the first day of school would feel if he had ever enjoyed it.

“Party at Mash’s tomorrow night!” says Sanders. He turns to point at Mashkov accusingly. “Now that you’ve deserted me and Matty, you gotta make it up to us.”

“Gonna be hard to miss noisy little neighbours if you visit all the time,” says Alexei. “Suppose party would be fine.” He wraps his hand around Sanders’ oustretched finger. “But you stay out of my kitchen. Don’t want to deal with housefire and puking rookies.”

“You’re good with them,” says Kent, later. “They like you.”

Alexei likes to think he’s learned a thing or two about Aces culture. He likes to think he’s learned a thing or two from Kent Parson too. He shrugs. “I still not bail them out of prison if they break law. That’s all on you, Parse.”

Kent laughs, his shoulders loose and his cheeks flushed; being on the ice agrees with him, perhaps more than most.

+

_shiny new letter on front of your jersey and bff with your captain??? what is the world coming to? glad you’re happy, baby. T x_

Alexei grins at his phone, and another text pops up, this one from Sasha. _Big party in Vegas and I don’t get an invite?? ((((((_

+

 **Full House in Vegas** : Before the season begins in earnest, the Las Vegas Aces spent their Friday night partying at Alexei Mashkov’s new pad. What do we know about it? Well, according to the property listing, it’s a ‘luxury home’, with an asking price of about $4.5m. If the seven-bedroom house seems a bit big for one guy, maybe we can expect his actress girlfriend (or wife?) to join him this season. Tatiana Sorokina (Mashkova?) has been famously reticent about settling with her beau in America but perhaps this house, in a relatively high-class neighbourhood (yes, we know Kent Parson lives in the same development) will tempt her over.

Even if her film-making duties keep her away, there’s a rumour that Mashkov will be putting up rookie, Pavel Bebchuk. We hope Mashkov is okay with animals because the rumour is that Bebchuk’s Tibetan Mastiff is being flown over within the month. Named after Sergei Fedorov, the huge dog has more Instagram followers than his owner. Puppy Feds still has a ways to go before he catches up with Kit Purrson, who remains the number one Aces pet on social media.

+

Alexei likes his house. Maybe he likes it a little less with Sanders and Sӧrenson sacked out on the living room floor, and with beer bottles covering every surface in the kitchen, but he likes it. It’s another piece in the puzzle of what home is.

It’s probably not Russia, anymore. The more Alexei learns about himself, and the more he expects, the less he misses it, as a place. His sisters have their own families and his parents have little more than polite disinterest now that Alexei is so far away.

He looks at Sanders. He looks at Sӧrenson. He looks at the party detritus.

With a sigh, he picks up his keys and puts on his sunglasses. He pulls out his phone and sends a text. _I am coming over for breakfast. House full of smelly hockey players all asleep_

+

“I want to see another banner up there,” whispers Kent, his eyes fixed on the rafters and the fluttering 2012 championship banner.

Their first home game of the season starts in five hours. Alexei wonders that anyone could ever doubt how much Kent cares. After another raft of articles about Kent being a selfish captain, Alexei thinks that maybe he should give him Sasha’s number so they can set up a support group.

Better, though, better would be making a promise to Kent, whose jaw is clenched. It seems a long time since Alexei watched him spilling pasta sauce on himself in Allegro.

“You will,” Alexei says, before he corrects himself. “ _We_ will.”

Kent offers Alexei a fistbump. “Go home and take a nap, Mashkov. New winning streak starts tonight.”


	4. Chapter 4

“What?” asks Parse. He’s just saying what they’re all thinking. 

“It doesn’t seem very family-friendly,” says Jeff, mildly. 

“It’s going to raise a shit-ton of money,” says Sanders, who pulls up his shirt and pats his stomach. 

“I need to go to the gym,” says Sӧrensen, staring bleakly across the locker room.

“I nominate Parson to do the whole thing,” says Flores. “January through December.” 

“We want this thing to sell, don’t we?” aks Banner.

“ _Hey_ ,” says Parson. “Don’t hate because I’m beautiful.”

The thing is, no one has a response to that.

+

Alexei blinks awake to be greeted with a pair of soulful brown eyes, blinking at him from a smiling face, with the worst morning breath Alexei has ever had the misfortune to encounter. 

Alexei leans back against his pillows and yells. “ _PASHA!_ ”

For the fourth morning in a row, Puppy Feds has found his way into Alexei’s bedroom. To judge from the dent in the pillow, it’s entirely possible that the hellbeast spent much of the night there. Again. 

He has the temerity to lick Alexei’s face before he jumps off the bed. 

“ _Yeuch_ ,” mumbles Alexei. He reaches for his phone.

_When are you coming to stay?_

Tanya texts back quickly. _Is your house still a bunkhouse for hockey players?_

It’s not that living with Pasha is any great inconvenience and Alexei doesn’t dislike Puppy Feds but he thinks he’d like a little respect. Of course, Tanya’s probably referring to the fact that Sanders and Sörensen seem to have all but moved in and there are always multiple cars parked outside, belonging to various teammates.

_I’ll kick them out for you. Say the word._

_You wouldn’t_ is followed by another quick text. _You love your smelly hockey boys and they love you._

She’s not wrong but, then again, in all the years they’ve known each other, Alexei can count on one hand the number of times Tanya has been wrong. 

_Maybe you can stay with Parse?_

_His house looks nice from his Instagram. I like his cat. OK._

Alexei blinks at the reply and doesn’t think much more of it until later that day, after practice, when he checks his phone. 

“You coming for lunch?” asks Bryce, fixing his cap in the mirror, even though his hair is always distressingly perfect. “Danny and the Kid say that new Thai fusion place is amazing.”

“Does Billy have crush on waitress again?” asks Kolya, looking across the locker room at where the rookies look half-dead. They’re ten games into the season and playing their little hearts out and they’re already exhausted but Billy can, at least, mount a spirited defence of his taste in women.

“Mash?” 

“Oh, sorry. Sorry, Banner.” Alexei looks up from his phone, and Tanya’s itinerary for when she’s due to arrive in Vegas. “I gotta go see Parse.”

“You okay, man? You look kinda pale.”

Alexei opens his mouth and closes it. He’s not sure how to explain that he seems to have invited his ex-girlfriend and always best friend to stay with his captain but he’s gonna have to figure it out by the time he sees Parse.

+

“Sure,” says Kent immediately, as though it’s no big deal or as though there can be no other answer. His eyebrows furrow slightly. “But aren’t you and she—”

“No!” Alexei can’t say it quick enough. “No. Tanya and me— on and off over years but definitely off now. We— she is my best friend, though. Very best,” he says fervently. 

Kent nods slowly but Alexei isn’t sure he understands. “And you’re sure she doesn’t want to stay with you.”

“No,” says Alexei. “Too many rookies and big smelly dog. When I said she could stay with you, it was joke but— she sees your house on Instagram and I think sees your cat, too, and wants to stay.”

“Oh,” says Kent, and he’s a little pink, and Alexei thinks he’s pleased. “Well. Kit is pretty great.” He takes out his phone. “When is she coming?”

“Next Wednesday,” says Alexei. “Day before Habs game. I’ll meet her at airport.”

“Cool,” says Kent. “My, uh, father and his family go home on Sunday, so, yeah, that totally works. How long is she staying for?”

“Two weeks,” says Alexei. 

Kent frowns. “Should I, like, sort out car rental for her?”

“Kent,” says Alexei. He puts his hands on Kent’s shoulders. “You’re already doing so much by having her to stay. Tanya is my guest. My friend. My pain in ass.”

“Okay,” says Kent, though he doesn’t look convinced. “Whatever you think. Can I have her number? Just to, you know, make sure I’ve got food and stuff she likes.”

“Kent.” Alexei squeezes his shoulders gently. “I tell Tanya to stay in hotel, if you worry so much. Tanya eats what hockey players eat. Sanders is more picky.”

“Sanders has way too many superstitions for a kid his age,” says Kent. Alexei can feel him relaxing slightly and he can’t really resist it; he pulls Kent in for a hug, even as Kent squawks. “Best captain.”

+

 

_Aren’t you worried about T staying with Parse?_

Alexei doesn’t really understand Snowy’s text. 

_Why? You think they make mischief?_

_LOL! NEVER CHANGE <3_

+

Alexei genuinely isn’t worried. He collects Tanya from the airport and they bicker cheerfully all the way to Alexei’s neighbourhood.

“See that broken flamingo?”

“Is it broken? I thought they were only supposed to stand on one leg.”

“Oh. Well. Okay. Anyway. That’s a good landmark if you’re looking for the turn-off.”

“Oh, Lyosha. You’re so cute. Like I’ll be driving here.”

“Parson wanted to rent you a car.”

“Because he’s a gentleman,” says Tanya, almost primly. She crosses her legs and her skirt rides up higher. Alexei shouldn’t still find that expanse of white skin so alluring but he’s only human and she’s still the only woman he’s ever loved.

“I am a gentleman,” says Alexei, outraged now that he has taken in what she said.

“Yes,” says Tanya. “That’s why you’re angry and driving fast.”

Alexei doesn’t slow down, out of spite.

“It’s okay,” says Tanya. “It’s hot.”

Kent is waiting at the door. 

“The poor dear,” says Tanya. “Do you think he’s been there all day?”

“Be nice,” says Alexei. “He’s letting you stay in his very nice house.”

“Only because he can’t say no to you, Lyosha-my-love.”

It takes Alexei a moment to follow Tanya into the house, and Kent is already carrying Tanya’s bags which are, as ever, vast and multiple and probably far too much for one heavily-insured NHL player to carry alone. Alexei hurries after Kent to help. 

“So, uh, the guest suite is through here,” says Kent.

‘ _Suite_ ’, mouths Tanya to Alexei, over Kent’s head. 

‘ _Be NICE_ ,’ mouths Alexei back. He’s going to regret this. Kent’s not going to survive and it will be all Alexei’s fault when his captain is day to day with a nervous fucking breakdown.

+

Of the things that Alexei is not expecting the next morning, this would probably rank near the top: it’s a photograph on Tanya’s Instagram of Kent and Tanya doing yoga at sunrise by Kent’s swimming pool. Kit is lounging in the background, looking as suspicious as Alexei feels. 

“Oh god,” he whispers.

Puppy Feds licks his face. 

“No,” says Alexei softly, which just seems to provoke Puppy Feds, who scrambles onto Alexei’s lap. There’s a concerned text from Snowy. _Bro I was only joking but is Parse making moves on your girl? You want Falcs to take care of him next week?_

Alexei can’t text back quick enough. _No no all good Snowy. Just being friends_.

He doesn’t get a reply but he can imagine Snowy’s expression. He really hopes that Snowy doesn’t get the boys to do anything stupid when they come to Vegas. 

He texts Tanya. _Why are you corrupting my captain?_

He texts Kent. _YOGA??_

Finally, he uploads a photo of himself with Puppy Feds. _Hahaha snoozing is better than yoga )))_

+

 

 **Locker Room Rift?**  
Although the reports have been strenuously denied, the rumours continue that there is a growing divide between Las Vegas Aces captain and star forward, Kent Parson, and his alternate, Alexei Mashkov. The source of this squabble is a woman - none other than movie star, Tatiana Sorokina, who is Mashkov’s childhood sweetheart. The pair have had a stormy relationship but now Ms Sorokina is in Las Vegas, reportedly spending a lot of time with Parson. The on-ice Mashkov-Parson rivalry of the past may very well raise its head again, and when modifed no-trade contracts butt heads, may the best captain win.

+

“Your house is much nicer than Lyosha’s,” says Tanya, sipping a smoothie through a curly straw. 

“She’s never been to my house,” says Alexei. “Don’t listen to her, Parse.”

Kent looks between them, a little uncertainly, but he seems relaxed, as well he might. They beat the Habs in an early afternoon game, mostly because Kent found some cracks in the goalie wall and exploited them to the fullest, and now most of the team are at Kent’s house for a party. Jeff and Rick have taken over the grill, even though it’s November, because they’re Canadians in Nevada. Kent settles on the couch next to Alexei.

“I have seen pictures,” says Tanya. “And Alexei Skyped me that time he found spider in the bathroom.” She leans closer, and she is golden and beautiful, and Alexei adores her even if he prefers a colder kind of gold, these days. “I always had to take care of spiders with him. I am surprised he didn’t call you.”

Kent elbows Alexei gently. “He could’ve,” he says. “I wouldn’t have minded.” 

Alexei doesn’t quite know what to say but he does know he can’t look at Tanya right now. “Thanks,” he mumbles. “Hard, though, to tell captain am a tiny bit scared of spiders.”

Tanya snorts indelicately. 

“Well, now I know,” says Kent. He puts a hand on Alexei’s leg and pushes himself up. “I’m just gonna check on the boys.” 

Alexei watches Kent walk away and when he meets Tanya’s eyes, he knows that she’s just been doing the same. 

“I would,” she says, with a sigh. “If I thought he had the remotest interest in anything but this damn team.”

+

“Has Mash moved in with you?” asks Sanders. “He never comes home anymore.” 

“Have you considered,” says Jeff, slinging his arm around Kent’s shoulders, “that maybe he’s been driven out of his home by all you rookies?”

“I’m not a rookie,” says Sanders, outraged.

“You’ll always be rookie,” says Kolya. 

Alexei glances over at Kent, who looks more tired after practice than he should, given that they haven’t had a game in two days. 

“I don’t mind if Mashkov moves in,” says Kent. “He vacuums.”

The locker room falls as silent as Alexei has ever heard it. 

“Kit sheds,” he says, with as much dignity as he can muster before he pulls down his pants, grabs a towel and stalks to the shower.

+

Alexei doesn’t know if he’s relieved or not that Tanya is still in Vegas when the Falcs come to town. She’s on the jumbotron before the game, sitting with Kolya’s wife, and as the camera pans out, it’s clear she’s wearing Parse’s number. 

“Are you shitting me?” demands Banner, nudging Alexei and nodding up at the screen. Alexei can only laugh and skate over to sling his arm over Kent’s shoulder. 

“Smile,” says Alexei, pointing at the jumbotron where his movements are being tracked, and he’s delighted when Kent laughs too. 

“It looks better on her,” he says, ruefully. 

“We-ell,” says Alexei, pretending to think about it. 

Kent elbows him in the ribs and Alexei whines, clutching his side. “No, Kenny. They’re gonna believe locker room rift stories.” 

Kent looks at him a little strangely, but grins as he steals the puck from Pasha and skates off down the ice.

The game goes about as well as games between the Aces and the Falconers can. No one is seriously injured and Kent only sits in the box when Sӧrensen sends the puck clear over the glass. Zimmboni and Kent trade goals in the third period but it’s Sanders who scores the game winner, after goalie interference is waved off. Alexei shrugs at Snowy, who gives him a rude gesture, and Alexei decides that he is relieved that Tanya is here because she is the perfect excuse not to go out for drinks with his old team; she is the perfect shield so he doesn’t have to navigate the minefield of loyalty to his old team and love of his new team.

+

The night before Tanya leaves to go to London to start filming some superhero movie in which, she says, she’ll get to kick Scarlett Johansson’s butt while wearing leather, she and Alexei and Kent have dinner together. 

It’s strangely domestic. Kent isn’t shy in Tanya’s company anymore; he is no longer bewildered by her radiance. They laugh like old friends and, sometimes, their give-and-take is too fast for Alexei to follow if he does not pay very careful attention. He finds it difficult to pay very careful attention caught, as he is, in this constellation. 

“I’ll drive you to the airport in the morning,” says Alexei. 

“I don’t mind,” starts Kent. 

“No,” says Alexei, a little more brusquely than he intends. 

“What our friend is _trying_ to say,” says Tanya, laying her hand on Alexei’s hand, “Is that you’ve done so much already, Kent. Maybe you should sleep in the morning.”

Kent smiles. “I’ll miss the yoga.”

“No, you won’t,” says Tanya, with a laugh.

“No,” says Kent, his smile wider. “I won’t. But I’ll miss you.”

Alexei’s heart thumps painfully in his chest. 

+

Kent is playing badly. He played badly last night, too, when he was whiffing on shots he should have made and cringing away from hits. Alexei was mostly angry that their captain wasn’t showing up against the Schooners, of all teams. They’ve been dropping stupid points against stupid teams and last night, the Schooners outshot them and outscored them.

Tonight, Kent isn’t playing any better and it’s another conference rival. Alexei doesn’t want to say he hates the Canucks but he pretty much hates the Canucks. 

“Must be injured,” Banner says, toweling down his stick, with four minutes to go in the second and no sign of a breakthrough. 

Kent is being helped off the ice. His arm is wrapped around his middle and he’s listing slightly against Pasha, so maybe it’s a muscle strain or something.

“Really injured,” says Sanders, resting his forearm on the wall in front of him, his mouthguard dangling out ridiculously. “He played through that hamstring injury that one time, remember?”

“Didn’t see him get hurt,” Alexei says. Now he’s mad that Parse has been playing injured, which is a different kind of mad to when Parse is just playing like shit.

“Quite gossiping!” barked Raymond. “We got a game to tie.”

They don’t tie it and they get back to the locker room to find out that Kent has been taken to hospital.

“Appendicitis,” says Raymond, tersely. 

+

 _You didn’t make him sick_. Tanya’s text is accurate but Alexei doesn’t feel less bad. He should have noticed that Kent looked pale and sweaty, instead of pink and sweaty. He should have noticed that Kent was quieter than usual, flinching away from hits and criticism even more than normal.

Apparently, the surgery took longer than expected because Kent’s appendix wasn’t quite where it should have been. It was stuck behind his colon.

“And it had _burst_ ,” says Sanders, wide-eyed and thrilled at how gruesome it all was. It’s easy to be delighted now that Kent is home and doing well, even if his recovery mightn’t be as quick as it could have been, if he’d been diagnosed earlier. 

Alexei should have known. Never mind that he hasn’t really known Kent Parson for that long. Not even a year, unless you count the other years when Alexei kind of hated him, for form’s sake, and for rivalry’s sake. Never mind that Alexei is not a doctor. He thinks that he is Kent’s friend, though, and friends should notice when friends have appendicitis.

He decides he should visit Kent. They have a day off and, following a routine workout in his basement gym, Alexei showers and heads out for the short walk to Kent’s house. Alexei is still a peculiarity; a large Russian walking in Nevada, even if it is, at most, five hundred metres. 

Alexei rings the doorbell and tells himself that if Kent doesn’t reply, he’ll go home. He won’t go around the house to the back, which is made entirely of windows and overlooks Kent’s ridiculous infinity pool.

There is a lot about Kent that is ridiculous, starting with his house, but Alexei usually finds it endearing.

The door swings open, seemingly of its own volition, and Alexei frowns until he looks down and realises that there is tiny child standing in front of him, with big brown eyes and black hair. 

“Sweetheart, what did we say about opening the door in Kenny’s house?”

“Not to,” says the little boy. 

“Mr … Parson?” Alexei blinks at the man in front of him, who looks a little like Kent, if Kent was twenty years older, and his fair hair had started to turn to silver. 

“Mr Parson was my grandfather, the old bastard. Call me RIck.” The man — Kent’s dad - scoops up the child and reaches out a hand to shake Alexei’s. “And this is Mateo, Kent’s little brother. Kenny will be pleased to see you.” 

“Oh,” says Alexei. “I wasn’t sure. He, uhm. Not been so good at answering texts lately.” 

“Ah,” says Rick. “That would be my wife’s fault. She caught him detailing a nutrition plan for some poor rookie and confiscated his phone until he remembered to look after himself first.”

“How did that go?” asks Alexei, almost morbidly curious at the very idea of Kent Parson learning to be selfish.

“A work in progress,” says Rick, leading the way through to the kitchen. “Who had Mashkov in the pool?” He looks over his shoulder at Alexei. “Sorry. I was just so damn _sure_ Jeff would be the first to crack and call over.”

Kent is sitting at the kitchen table, looking strangely soft in an Aces t-shirt and sweatpants, with a little girl sitting on his lap, pointing at pictures in a book that is open in front of them. His cheeks are a little pink but he looks so much better than he did last week that Alexei is struck, again, with horror that he couldn’t see how sick Kent had been. 

He looks pleased to see Alexei. 

“I’d stand up,” he says, “but Val and I have to finish this book.”

“Valentina,” says Rick. “Why don’t you and Matty go see where Mom is?”

“Okay, Daddy,” says the little girl, peeling wide eyes from Alexei and sliding off Kent’s lap, before she runs out of the kitchen, dark curls bouncing as she goes. 

Alexei isn’t sure where to go until Kent kicks out the chair opposite him. 

“Sit down,” he says. “Dad’s gonna cook lunch. You should stay.” 

“Oh,” says Alexei. “I don’t want to—”

“Eat my cooking?” asks Rick, wiping his hands on a tea towel. “Don’t blame you. But you’re not imposing, if that’s what you were going to say.”

“Mommy, Mommy, a _giant_ came to see Kenny,” says Valentina. “Come see!” 

Alexei stands up again, nearly knocking his chair over, as a tall woman comes into the kitchen, dragged by her children. 

“This is Viviana,” says Kent. “My stepmom. Mom, this is Alexei,” Alexei glances at him quickly but Kent’s expression is warm in a way that Alexei so rarely sees, as Valentina climbs back onto his lap. 

“Careful with your brother,” says Viviana. “He had an operation, remember?”

Valentina nods solemnly, as Mateo tugs at his mother’s hand. She lifts him up to carry him against her hip and she holds a hand out to Alexei. “It’s lovely to meet you,” she says. “Kent says such nice things about you but says you need to work on your D-zone exits.”

“Mo-om,” says Kent, cheeks now flaming to crimson.

“It’s okay,” says Alexei. “He says same to me, all the time. I tell him, he works on backchecking, I don’t need to worry so much about getting puck out of zone.”

+

“They’re so cute,” whispers Alexei.

“You should have seen Parse when they were born,” says Jeff. “Val’s the older one, yeah? And Matty is, like, a year younger? Parse _babyproofed_ his house.”

“Shut up,” says Kent. He’s sitting in a suit, in the locker room. He’s still not cleared to play and he’s clearly a little sad that his family have had to go back to the east coast but Alexei thinks he’s pretty gratified by the way his team are cooing over his baby siblings. “Shut up,” says Kent again. “And win. I don’t want to have to drag your asses to the post-season because you can’t hold on to a playoff spot.”

“Parse,” says Banner. “It’s _December._ ” 

+

A few weeks later, Alexei bumps into Kent as he’s leaving the showers. 

He stops and frowns. “You have scar,” he says, pointing at Kent’s lower abdomen. “I thought they did, uhm—”

Kent looks down and pats the scar, which is still pink. “Oh. You mean keyhole? Yeah. I guess it was messier than usual, so—” He shrugs.

“Does it hurt?” asks Alexei, dragging his eyes up Kent’s body to look him in the eyes.

“No, buddy,” says Kent, looking at Alexei a little strangely. “I’m okay.” 

+

 _I have a problem_. Alexei stares at the text he’s sent to Tanya. 

_Does it begin with a ‘P’ and end in an ‘ahahaha I told you so’?_

Alexei wonders who else he can text. He could possibly text Snowy but he thinks it might be weird and unexpected. He’s not sure he can deal with the inevitable line of questioning - _how long have you liked men?_ and _why didn’t you tell me sooner?_. He supposes Zhenya is an obvious person to text, or Sasha, or even Tolya up in Seattle, but he’s not sure he’s ready to share these dawning realisations.

He could call any one of his sisters, who are so much older than him, and he knows that there would be good advice and gentle censure and a strong reminder not to tell their parents.

+

It’s New Year’s Eve and they’re in Toronto. Alexei likes Canada and they’ve had a fun day learning how curling works. Kent is dreadful and laughs at himself, while Sanders takes it far too seriously. Kolya excels, the way he always does; quietly and with wry humour. 

A few of them go up the CN Tower to film a segment for Aces TV and then it’s back to the hotel for a New Year’s Eve dinner. 

Someone nudges Kent into standing up to say a few words before midnight. 

“Alright, you fucks. You managed to slip down to second while I was sick. Can we not do that next year?”

“You’ve only got one appendix, Parse!” shouts Gregor. 

“Right,” says Kent. “Lucky for you all, I only have— had— one appendix. I love playing with you guys and I love winning with you more so, like, here’s to 2017 and winning.”

“Christ, Parse,” says Jeff, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. “That was deep.”

Alexei nudges Kent gently. “I liked it,” he said. “This lot don’t get— uh—” He looks at Kolya to ask what the English word he wants is. Kolya gives him a withering stare. 

“Subtlety,” says Kolya. 

“Yes,” says Alexei. “That.” 

“Mashkov gets it,” says Kent, leaning against Alexei. Alexei doesn’t think he hesitates before sliding his arm along the back of Kent’s chair. Kolya looks at him, blinking once, before turning his attention back to dissecting his dessert. 

Alexei leaves his arm where it is and laughs softly as Sanders tries to persuade Pasha to charm more wine from the waitress.

“Happy New Year,” says Kent, quietly, with a few minutes to spare. 

“Happy New Year,” says Alexei, after a moment, as Kent turns to exchange fistbumps with Mak. Alexei can see the curve of Kent’s smile, and it’s a lot, and not enough. 

+

 **The Clothes Off Their Backs:** That’s right, ladies (and men). This year, the Las Vegas Aces have eschewed their usual pet-friendly (and family-friendly) calendar, and have issued a limited edition calendar to raise money for a range of local charities. The difference is, this year, your favourite hockey players have shed their clothes for a good cause.

Spoiler alert: Check out Mr July!


	5. Chapter 5

Aside from having to film some frankly quite daft segments for television, Alexei finds that he is looking forward to the All-Star Game. He’s not tempted to claim injury, despite Sanders’ teasing. 

Kent has been voted captain of the Pacific team and Alexei is delighted that Zimmboni is going to be captain of the Atlantic team. Alexei has always enjoyed All-Star Games in the past, not least for the opportunity to catch up with friends in a relatively relaxed, if not outright pickled, atmosphere. 

He travels to LA with Kent and Mak. Mak is nervous in a way he never usually is and Alexei isn’t sure what’s wrong with Kent and just hopes he’s not coming down with some other ailment. He may only have (had) one appendix but Alexei is pretty sure Kent still has his tonsils and sundry other troublesome organs. 

He wishes that Tanya could be there but she tells him that she’s sick of LA and she’s sick of hockey players so he’s on his own. 

“It’s okay,” says Kent, and Alexei thinks maybe he’s a little shy. “You can share my family. You know that Matty is going to want to ride on your shoulders again.” 

Alexei grins broadly. “Seems a good trade, to be part of Parson family for weekend.” He tilts his head to the side. “Though I will have to see the Russians, too. Drink a lot, cry over home country.”

“Ah,” says Kent, smiling at last. “The usual?”

Alexei nods. “The usual.”

+

When they get to the hotel, there’s a degree of controlled mayhem in progress. There are hockey players and their families and entourages. Alexei thinks he sees Sasha running through, pursued by the agent they share. 

“Tater!”

Alexei grins broadly at Zimmboni. Little B is waving at him and there’s Bob and Zimmboni’s mother, who’s always been so polite to Alexei. He turns to Kent, who’s standing beside him, and has stiffened, like some kind of gunhound who doesn’t like what he’s seeing. There’s a change in Kent’s expression; he looks cold and closed-off and something like a twisted smirk appears on his lips. 

“Hey, Tater!” Little B is waving again and Alexei shrugs and makes his way over to the Zimmboni family. He exchanges bro-hugs with Zimmboni and with B and does not look back at Kent, for fear of seeing another ugly expression on his face. Perhaps it’s jealousy, Alexei thinks, a curl of annoyance unfurling in his chest; perhaps Kent doesn’t want to share. It’s too bad, because even though Alexei is an Ace now, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t still have friends on the Falconers.

“You looked like you needed rescuing,” says B and Alexei isn’t sure what he means. The foyer is still super-crowded but with his height, he seldom feels claustrophobic. B is very small, though, so it must be different for him. 

“How’s life in Vegas?” asks Bob, reaching out to shake Alexei’s hand.

Even though Alexei towers over Bob Zimmermann, he invariably feels rather insignificant. 

“Good,” he says, not wanting to babble. He wishes, sometimes, he was like Kolya, who manages to seem mysterious in his monosyllabic ways, instead of struggling with the foibles of the English language. “Very— warm.” 

“It’s okay,” says B. “You can say you miss Providence. We miss you too, right, Jack?”

“For sure,” says Jack, and he blinks in that way that means he’s going to make a joke. Alexeis has always found it pretty endearing, how Jack telegraphs his humour. “I mean, not your zone entries but the rest of it.”

Alexei half-chokes and looks over his shoulder. He can’t see Kent anymore.

He has no warning when Snowy jumps on him, throwing his arms around him, startling a laugh out of Alexei.

“Tater,” Snowy croons. “I’ve missed you.” 

“Missed you, too,” Alexei says, and the lump in his throat is ridiculous. He turns around to hug Snowy properly and catches sight of Mak, following Kent through the crowd. His throat gets tighter.

“You’ll both join us for dinner tonight, won’t you?” asks Alicia.

“That would be nice,” says Alexei, dazzled, as always.

+

“What did you do to Parson?” hisses Mak. 

Alexei genuinely doesn’t know. He shrugs. Kent is sitting as far away as he can and seems to have volunteered for single interviews, while most players are taking part in group interviews with their teammates. Today, there’s a bunch of media stuff and tomorrow is the skills competition, so hopefully Kent will have gotten over whatever’s troubling him. Alexei doesn’t really feel like stepping on eggshells around his captain today, so when Snowy invites him to go shopping for presents for his kids, Alexei eagerly accepts. 

“Hard to believe it’s been nearly a year since you were traded,” says Snowy.

“What, we gonna have a sad anniversary?” asks Alexei. “Maybe little cupcake with a candle?”

“Yeah,” says Snowy. “And black icing. It’ll be great. We’ll all cry.” They walk in silence for a while. It’s kind of nice, Alexei thinks, that Los Angeles is like Vegas and he can walk through a mall without anyone obviously recognising him. He likes the big and easy anonymity, which he didn’t always get in Providence. 

“Are you okay?” asks Snowy. 

Alexei isn’t sure what to say. His current teammates seem pissed off and his former teammates seem happy to see him; it’s not exactly a hard choice to spend time with Snowy. 

“You can tell me,” says Snowy. “Zimms isn’t here. Is Parson as big a dick as he seems?” 

“No,” says Alexei, the answer ripping out of him. “He’s a good captain. Good friend. Everyone likes him. Even Tanya likes him.” 

“Do you?” 

Alexei stares at Snowy. “ _Yes_ ,” he says. 

He wonders what Snowy sees in his face because he stares back at Alexei for a few seconds before nodding. “Okay, buddy. Parson’s good people. I get you.” He turns to look through a shop window. Alexei doesn’t think Snowy is that interested in scented candles. 

“How come you and Tanya broke up?” asks Snowy. 

Alexei doesn’t flinch, he thinks, but it’s close. He’s not sure what’s changed in this less-than-a-year that the question seems intrusive. He knows, with great certainty, that this is exactly the sort of conversation he and Snowy might have had a year ago or more. He wonders, with a brief flare of panic, if this is how all his friendships must go; that they will last for as long as he has teammates and then that artificial intimacy will dissipate and he will walk through shops in Los Angeles, making impolite conversation and small talk that is like a series of tiny combustions. Snowy is his friend but Alexei isn’t a Falconer anymore. 

His phone buzzes. It’s from Kent. _i know you’re busy but the kids would love to see you if you have time._. Alexei tucks his phone away, intending to reply later.

“We were always gonna break up,” he says. “We’ll always be best friends, I think, but I would be _very_ bad husband for Tanya.”

“Right,” says Snowy, after a moment. “I mean, she’s probably too hot for you anyway.”

Alexei laughs because this, he can understand; the sly and friendly expression on Snowy’s face as they tease each other. 

“If it’s any consolation, my wife thinks you’re hot,” says Snowy.

“And yet, she married you?” asks Alexei, feigning shock. 

“I know, man, I can’t believe it either.” Snowy sways closer, and nudges Alexei with his elbow. “We’ll always be friends, too, you know that, right?”

+

Alexei spends the evening with Russian NHL-ers and he finds his equilibrium a little more, until he remembers that he forgot to text Kent back. 

“You better stop making Parson mad,” says Sasha, which alarms Alexei. He doesn’t know what stories are flying around, much less how they reached Sasha. “I want to beat Pacific team fair and square. Me and Sid.” 

Everything makes a lot more sense now. “Is Sid—”

“Last I saw, he and Parson were talking about protein shakes and the value of bag skates. They are living their best life,” says Sasha, solemnly.

\+ 

Kent is subdued in the locker room before the Skills Competition, until he whistles, loudly and piercingly, to get everyone’s attention.

“Fuck, is he always like this?” asks Tolya, rubbing at his ear with a knuckle. 

“Always,” says Mak, his eyes trained on Kent like there’s no one else in the room. 

“Okay, listen up,” says Kent. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m here to win. This is how it’s going to go.” 

It’s clear Kent has put in a surprising amount of thought into deciding who’s going to participate in which part of the competition and Alexei isn’t surprised when he’s told that he’s going to be taking part in the hardest shot.

“Amazing,” breathes Tolya. 

Before Alexei has the chance to reach Kent before they go out onto the ice, Kent is swept off by the latest saviour of Canadian hockey and his entourage of North Americans. Alexei knows, from experience, that when Kent doesn’t want to be moved, whether it’s on or off the ice, he won’t be. 

Alexei wants to apologise but Kent is so focused on the game, even though it’s all for fun, that maybe it’s not the right time.

+

“Well played,” says Zimmboni, up at the bar in the hotel restaurant that night. It seems like most of the All-Star players and their families are here.

“You guys won,” says Alexei, heaving a big sigh as he sits up next to Zimmboni. “Okay, though. We’ll beat you in the final tomorrow.”

“You’ve gotta get past Central first.”

“No problems,” says Alexei. “You gotta beat Metro.” 

He looks around the hotel bar, and he sees Little B talking to Snowy and the Zimmermanns, and he sees Sasha holding court at a booth with most of the Russians, and he sees Kent, at a corner table. Val is asleep in his arms, and Matty is leaning heavily against him. 

Zimmboni, evidently, follows his gaze and looks back at Alexei, frowning. 

“Parson has kids?” 

Alexei blinks. “Baby brother and sister,” he says. 

“I didn’t know his father had another family,” says Jack. 

Alexei is confused and glances over again. The Parsons look like one family to him. He wonders if it’s too late to go over to apologise. He thinks it probably is, if the kids are asleep. Maybe he’ll get the chance to see them tomorrow.

+

They lose to the Metropolitan team in the final, but it’s a fun game. Alexei isn’t sure about the line choices; he’s hardly ever out with Kent, but it’s probably just as well. It’s breathtaking to watch him with Edmonton’s finest and Alexei wonders, briefly, what it must have been like to watch Kent and Zimmboni play together. He wonders if it was as distracting as this.

There’s chaos after the game, and Alexei doesn’t see Kent until the airport, and he’s deep in conversation with John at a coffee stand. He glances towards Alexei and Mak but then turns in the opposite direction, walking away from the gate. 

“Where’s Parse going?” he asks Mak. 

“New York,” says Mak, busying himself with rooting through his backpack. “Going to stay with his dad for a couple of days before the next game.”

“Did Coach say it was okay?” 

Mak raises his head and looks at Alexei, as witheringly as a twenty-two year old Finnish goaltender can. “Obviously.”

+

_What did you do?_

Alexei blinks at Tanya’s text but he can’t pretend he doesn’t understand. He starts to reply but then he decides to call her instead.

“Well?” she asks. 

“Hello, Tanechka,” he says. “How are you?”

“Why is Kolya’s wife texting me about you being an asshole to Parson?”

“I’m not an asshole!” says Alexei, anger flaring. “I did nothing!”

“No,” says Tanya. “You just spent a weekend ignoring him because there were better options, huh?”

“It wasn’t like that,” says Alexei. “I hadn’t seen Snowy in ages and I didn’t know that Kent and Zimmboni—” He stops. No, he knows that Zimmboni and Kent aren’t friends. Little B has never pretended to like Kent, and Alexei has never been quite sure why (though he hasn’t thought to enquire).

“Fix it,” says Tanya. “I like Parson and I want to be able to stay in his house again.”

+

He doesn’t fix it straight away. Mak doesn’t sit with him on the plane to their game up in Seattle and Tolya gives him puppy dog eyes before the game starts which makes very little sense. He’s pretty sure that, as the captain of the Schooners, Tolya shouldn’t be overly invested in the personal relationships of the Aces. He did seem pretty charmed by Kent at the All-Star game, though. 

The worst is when Sanders and Sörensen move out. Alexei has been complaining about them taking over his home for weeks but they’ve kept coming back. The place is quiet without them. 

They’re back within the week. 

“We like your TV,” says Sanders, sniffing. 

“And your kitchen is better-stocked,” says Sörensen. Grocery shopping remains a foreign concept, apparently.

“And we couldn’t let Babs deal with you on his own,” says Sanders. 

Alexei looks at Pasha, who looks at him, a little defiantly. “I like them and so does Fedorov.”

Puppy Feds raises his head and fixes Alexei with such a baleful stare that he’s reminded of Tolya, again. 

+

Alexei visits Kent. 

He pretends he’s not hurt by the way Kent’s eyes widen with surprise when he opens the door. He doesn’t deserve to feel hurt.

“I’m sorry,” he says, immediately. “I’m sorry I sucked in L.A.”

“You didn’t play _that_ badly,” says Kent, quietly.

Alexei blinks. He thinks it’s a joke but Kent’s not smiling. He’s not even really looking at Alexei. 

“I fucked up,” he says. 

“You did,” says Kent, after a deep breath. “I— uh— I had a hard time explaining to the kids that they couldn’t see you. I guess I shouldn’t have gotten their hopes up or, like, put pressure on you to see—”

“Kent,” says Alexei. “No. It’s my fault. Not yours. I got— I— I never think—” He frowns and pinches his nose. “It was easy to be with Snowy and Zimm—”

Kent’s face does something catastrophic; Alexei can’t even describe it. His expression falls and then shuts down and he jerks, as though he’s thinking of turning away.

Alexei is, it turns out, is an idiot. 

“No,” he says, reaching out and curving his hand over Kent’s hunched shoulder. “It’s easy to be with you, too, Kent. It’s easiest.” 

“Oh,” Kent says, huffing slightly. “Oh.”

+

It doesn’t fix everything, immediately.

Kent mostly goes out with Jeff and Banner. Alexei stays home, until Kolya thinks he’s suffered enough and drags him across to his house for Russian food and to be a cheap babysitter.

One night, he’s watching Sanders and Pasha play _Call of Duty_ and swear at each other with increasing creativity, while Sörensen cheerfully mocks them both. 

Alexei’s phone starts buzzing. 

It’s a series of Snapchats from Kent, of Kit cleaning herself. Alexei chuckles.

“What’s so funny?” asks Sanders, peevishly. He must be losing.

“Oh,” says Alexei. “Parse’s Snaps.”

Sörensen sits up and reaches for his phone. “Wait. I got nothing.”

Sanders pauses the game and Pasha swears at him but they both reach for their phones. As one, they turn to look at Alexei. He waves his phone at them so they can see Kit’s contortions.

“She’s so ugly,” says Sanders. 

“Kit is perfect,” says Alexei, with great dignity, and types out a reply to Kent’s Snap so Kent knows too.

+

They play the Stars, at home. 

Alexei takes two minors in the first, and a fighting major in the second, and he’s benched for the third. The Aces still win, though, thanks to a hat trick from Kent, including a shortie when Alexei was in the box.

“You coming out, Cap?” asks Sanders, tugging on a t-shirt that Alexei recognises as his lucky t-shirt, for reasons Alexei still hasn’t fully grasped. 

“It’s time for his bi-annual mutual appreciation society with Dallas’s favourite centre,” says Jeff, with undue cheer. He hasn’t been weird around Alexei, the way the rest of the team have. 

Kent doesn’t deny it. “Behave,” he says, pointing at his team, at large. “Especially you, Mashkov, _jesus_. No more shitty penalties, okay?”

Alexei is pathetically grateful. It’s the first time that Kent has spoken to him in front of the team, outside of necessity. It’s like the whole locker room takes a breath, too, and lets it out.

“You coming, Mashkov?” asks Banner, expectantly. 

“You better go with them,” says Kent. “Just to stop them being so fucking sad.” 

“Yes, Cap,” Alexei says, sketching a salute. 

“You’re buying,” says Sanders, after a moment. 

“‘m always buy,” says Alexei, darkly. “What about grocery bill?”

“We thought you _liked_ doing the groceries,” says Sörensen.

Alexei hears Kent snort as he leaves the room. 

+

There’s a post on Instagram the next morning, of Tyler and Kent arm-wrestling. _loser pays check_

Alexei supposes it’s funny.

+

They have an eastern road trip, starting in DC. Sasha makes it his mission to hit Alexei as hard and as often as he can, and always with the same manic grin. 

“You make Parson sad which makes Sidney sad which makes Zhenya sad which means I never hear the end of it,” says Sasha. 

“Parson isn’t sad,” says Alexei, rubbing his hip. “You _dick_.”

“Good,” says Sasha, with a disconcerting smile.

+

_You sad?_

The ellipses take a long time to resolve into Kent’s reply. _No buddy. Are you? You played well tonight. Canes are a really tough team._

Alexei huffs a laugh, staring at his phone screen. The ellipses start up again. _Want me to call in?_

Alexei doesn’t really stop to think. He just texts his room number to Kent.

Ten minutes later, there’s a knock on the door. Kent’s wearing a backwards-Snapback and a fleecy Aces hoodie. He’s also carrying a cardboard box and his cheeks are a little pink. He’s been outside. 

“I brought cheesecake,” says Kent.

“Your favourite,” says Alexei, grinning so that Kent knows he’s teasing. 

“Everyone likes cheesecake,” says Kent. “C’mon, let’s watch the third period of the Schooners game. We could get them in the playoffs.” 

+

“You okay, bud?” Jeff leans against him as Alexei sits down next to him on the bus. 

“Fine,” says Alexei, a little puzzled. Jeff usually sits on his own. 

“Good,” says Jeff. “Think you worried Parse last night. He left the diner _before_ dessert.” 

“Oh,” says Alexei. “ _Oh_. I didn’t mean—” He sits back and blinks. “He overreacts a lot, doesn’t he?” 

“I think, for Parse, it’s just reacting. Did I ever tell you about the time I thought my cat was sick? It was, like, one o’clock in the morning and she just started—” Jeff starts making this hacking noise. 

“Hairballs?” asks Alexei.

“I know that _now_ ,” says Jeff. “Did you know that my cat is Kent’s cat’s sister?”

+

 **On the Hunt Hockey**  
All eyes are on Providence tonight when the Aces roll into town. Games between these two teams are traditionally close and regularly heated. In the last game, there was an astounding eight-four minutes of penalty time shared pretty equally between both teams, which was won in the third by a dubious goal from Aces’ young star, Sam Sanders. 

+

“I’m so sorry,” says Zimmboni, after the game.

“Was _very_ high stick,” says Alexei. It stings, the sutured wound above his right eye. Mak sniffed at him and said that Hedman wore it better, but only after he made sure that Alexei was really okay. 

“Let me take you to dinner,” says Zimmboni. “To make it up to you.” 

What Alexei wants, more than anything, is to go back to the hotel and sleep it off but his stomach rumbles and he knows he should eat something. 

“The usual?” he asks, hopefully. 

The locker room door opens behind him and Zimmboni freezes. 

Kent claps Alexei on the shoulder and pointedly doesn’t look at Zimmboni which is probably a preferable state of affairs. “You okay, Lyosha? Tania has _already_ texted to say she’ll kick my ass if you’re not okay.”

“I’m good, Kent,” says Alexei, covering Kent’s hand with his own. “Go on. Banner is waiting for you and you won’t like him when he’s hangry.”

Kent laughs, like it’s the first time he’s heard that joke, and maybe it’s a little strained. “See you later,” he says, and then he mumbles, quickly, “Good game, Zimms.” 

Jack looks as surprised as Alexei feels.

+

Alexei looks across the table at Jack and B in the restaurant and something settles inside him.

He’s not a Falconer anymore. He’s not Kent’s enemy, although Bittle still seems to like making comments about Kent. That’s not new, of course, and Alexei is not proud of the fact that he used to encourage it. Friendly rivalry, he used to tell himself, even when there was nothing friendly about his dislike of Kent. 

Alexei isn’t Kent’s enemy. He’s Kent’s A. He doesn’t know why he feels the need to text him, right there in the restaurant. 

_You sad?_

His phone buzzes a few minutes later. _A little. Not proud of the fighting major_. 

Alexei nods and makes some noises about how close it is to curfew. 

Half an hour later, he knocks on Kent’s door. Everyone knows Kent’s room number because Kent always makes sure he’s available to his team. And, possibly, because they all learned their lesson from that time that Sanders knocked on every door in a hotel in Nashville, looking for Kent while singing some terrible country music. 

He can hear Kent’s voice, muffled through the door, and when Kent opens the door, he’s holding his iPad in one hand. Kent’s wearing a faded Aces t-shirt that may have been black, once upon a time, and plaid pyjama bottoms and Alexei knows they’re the ones Kent’s stepmother gave him for Christmas. 

“Hi,” says Kent. He sounds surprised and he looks surprised. Kent has stopped schooling his expressions around Alexei, and it’s another piece of Kent that Alexei treasures, like when he dissolved into helpless giggles while Mak and Kolya sang ‘Suspicious Minds’ at karaoke last week. “Are you okay?” 

Alexei doesn’t like the look of concern on Kent’s face. “Oh,” he says. “No, no, I am fine, Kenny, thank you.” 

He steps inside the room as Kent steps back and waits as Kent closes the door. The box in his hands crinkles a little and he makes his fingers relax. He means to tell Kent that he brought him cheesecake but the words are thick on his tongue and as Kent turns around, Alexei ducks his head and presses his lips to Kent’s, the way he hasn’t, yet. 

Kent mumbles something against Alexei’s mouth but he doesn’t sound distressed and Alexei keeps kissing him. Kent’s arms wrap around Alexei’s neck, and Alexei can feel the weight of Kent’s iPad against his back. Alexei splays the fingers of one hand against Kent’s back, keeping him in place, and the damned cheesecake is going to have to take its chances on the floor while Alexei reaches out and supports himself against the door with the other hand. 

Alexei pulls back and trails kisses along Kent’s jaw, nuzzling into his ridiculous hair, and he can feel Kent’s breath against his cheek. 

“Alexei?” Kent’s voice is small, breathless. 

“Didn’t mean to give you goodnight kiss before giving you cheesecake,” says Alexei, rubbing his cheek against Kent’s. 

“Oh,” says Kent. His lips are somewhere near Alexei’s ear and it sends shivers down Alexei’s spine. There’s not much room for Kent to pull his head back but he does. “Wait.” 

Alexei’s heart stutters; it has never known the difference between soaring and sinking. 

“Wait,” says Kent, moving his hand to press against Alexei’s chest. “You brought cheesecake?”

“It’s your favourite,” says Alexei.

“Everyone likes cheesecake,” says Kent, and he doesn’t look away from Alexei’s face.


End file.
